


wolves come out of the woodwork (and the snakes start to sing)

by ohfaiths



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Angst and Drama, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfaiths/pseuds/ohfaiths
Summary: Sinners disguised as saints can lead you to the devil.
Relationships: Joey Hudson/Staci Pratt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	wolves come out of the woodwork (and the snakes start to sing)

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "the wolf in sheep's clothing". Betad by the lovely racheljessop/adelaidedrubman on tumblr.  
> Title from "and the snakes start to sing" by bring me the horizon.  
> Also posted on tumblr: https://ohfaiths.tumblr.com/post/642040480543162368/wolves-come-out-of-the-woodwork

“He could do that all day, you know.”

Joey Hudson looks up at Staci Pratt, her emotions are basically written on her face. She’s exhausted, mascara smudged and the life sucked out of her eyes – but she is so, so _angry_. Angry at herself, angry at Whitehorse, angry at Joseph Seed and his fucking psychotic siblings, angry at _Staci Pratt_ of all people, because she trusted him the most. She could have trusted him with her life and that would be the biggest mistake of her life she wouldn’t be able to reverse.

It’s been a couple of weeks since Joey found out about Pratt being one of them. One of the peggies, those loyal dogs that bark on command and risk their lives like fucking kamikazes. Joey wonders for how long Staci balanced his life as a deputy and the project’s puppet; it could have been months or worse, years. He was among them the whole time even though they didn’t even suspect a thing because yes, he was damn good at that. Good at pretending to be a good guy, an asshole with the heart of gold, the partner Joey could only dream of because he was _perfect_. All the qualities a deputy requires combined in one person.

And then, just like that, he betrayed them. As if it was easy. As if he could pull the trigger without hesitation once given the opportunity.

“We don’t want to make it harder for you,” he speaks again and Joey rolls her eyes.

“Are you here trying to recruit me, Pratt? Sorry to disappoint you, but your pretty little lies don’t work on me.”

“Oh, they do work,” he smirks and Hudson scowls. “You just don’t know it. Yet.”

“Do me a favour and get out of my sight.”

“Or what? You’re going to kill me? I’m sorry, Joey, but do I need to remind you that you’re the one who is tied to a chair?”

Hudson levels him with a stare and looks away, unable to look at the traitor. 

It hurts. It fucking _hurts_ thinking about everything Joey ever told Staci, all of her secrets and drunk confessions, and she can’t take those back. Just when she thought she found a friend, someone she could go to when she had a bad day, her expectations were ruined and she doesn’t know how to fix all of that. Somewhere along with their midnight phone calls and soft gazes, Joey began to realize that she sees Staci as something more than just her friend and a colleague; thinking about it now makes her sick; or perhaps it’s the smell in the room, a mix of copper, dirt and blood. It’s disgusting and nauseous, and Hudson holds her breath for a minute, hoping she feels better.

The rope around her wrists and legs doesn’t make it better, either. Joey knows that she’d be able to at least loosen the restrictions around her limbs if only Pratt left her alone. His presence no longer brings Hudson safety the way it used to when they worked side by side at the police station; the way his energy floods the room, the way his eyes shine in the dimly lighted room, the way he holds his hands behind his back – a gesture so open and welcoming, but Joey knows that this is a trap. She must not let her guard down.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Pratt’s voice shatters through the silence of the room and Joey flinches but doesn’t meet his eyes. “We never did.”

“You’d have to try harder than that,” she scoffs, thinking how this is not the worst pain she’s been through. 

“I know,” Staci smirks. Of course, he does. Joey looks up at him, her hands clench into fists. Her fingers itch to grab his neck. “John asked me about you. Your story, how you came to the department… your highs and lows. Your weaknesses and strengths. He was trying to dig information on you, but I told him only the things he can know. Not the things he… should know.”

“Wow, I’m flattered for not spilling all of my secrets, how charming of you,” Hudson says in a monotonous tone, grimacing. 

Pratt beams. Then he steps away from the table with John’s tools and slowly approaches Joey, a smooth criminal and a bastard. For the first time that Joey’s been there, she feels a rush of adrenaline pumping in her veins; she swallows, feeling slightly uncomfortable by the way her former colleague kneels in front of her, levelling their eye contact.

“Do you know why I did that? Why didn’t I tell him what he needed?”

“Do enlighten me.”

“Because you mean a lot to me, Joey,” Joey thinks she hears his voice chattering at the end. Her heart clenches in her chest. “Because I believe we can walk the path together. You and I, hand in hand. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

For a moment – _a splitting second_ – Joey Hudson considers everything Staci Pratts tells her. He’s always been a smooth talker, someone Joey considers great at convincing people, flashing his puppy eyes that would get him everything he needs, whether in or out of the police station. Hudson is terrified thinking how she would probably follow him in different circumstances because what he offers does not sound too bad. There were a couple of episodes when Joey Hudson thought she would quit her job, exhausted from occasional misogyny and sexism, barked orders and odd requests that left her fuming, hands aching to dart to the pistol on her thigh, shooting without a warning. Then she thinks of how she loves her job; how much joy it brings her to talk to her colleagues and doing something she excels at, something she has dreamed of since a kid.

“So?” Staci pushes her, tilting his head. Cocky bastard. Joey closes her eyes and shakes her head. “C’mon, Joey. Don’t make me make everything worse. They won’t be as kind to you as I am. I mean it. Join us, and you will have everything your heart wants; the whole world at your feet.”

Hudson doesn’t need the world at her feet, she needs her colleague, her best friend, her partner back; with all his quirks and flaws, with him at his worst and his best. Staci’s words linger at the back of Joey’s mind: _“we can walk this path together, you and I, hand in hand.”_

The path that was built on corpses, blood, guns and grenades, mines that would explode the moment you step on them. Joey Hudson doesn’t believe in all of this, _in the path, the pilgrimage, the collapse_. Even if it exists, she’d rather die as herself and not a brainwashed creature.

“Do you really think I will be willing to fall for you after everything you’d done?” Joey smirks and meets Staci’s eyes. He narrows them, and anger flashes on his face. Good. Let him be angry. “Do you really think I am that easy to be manipulated into your circus?”

Pratt’s lips curve into a scowl and he stands up abruptly, pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, surely trying to convince her that he sincerely wants the best for her.

“You deserve more than what you already have, Hudson!” He’s almost screaming, much to Joey’s delight. She riled him up to the point where he’s losing his mind. “Fuck, he was right. About them. About _all of you_! You don’t understand. You don’t _want_ to understand.”

“Understand what, Pratt?!” Joey spits, venom in her voice. The man stops pacing and their eyes meet; angry, filled with rage. “That you are their doll? Their puppet? That they fucked up with your mind so bad you don’t see obvious things!?”

“All I ever wanted was to be more than that. More than a deputy, more than just a lost boy with no friends, _more_ than just your fuck buddy.”

“Oh, now you blame _me_ for that?!” Hudson flinches in her chair, once again trying to escape. She hisses at the pain around her wrists; she sees Staci’s expressions crumble. “You were the one who suggested that, don’t try to make me feel guilty or some shit.”

“I’m not blaming you, Hudson,” Pratt throws his hands in the air and laughs. A laugh Joey never heard; she can almost hear the exasperation in it. “But I wish I told you everything under different circumstances. Maybe then you would listen to me. _Believe me_.”

The woman swallows, shaking her head. No. No, this is wrong. This shouldn’t have happened. 

“You think I am the one who needs guidance,” Joey whispers, leaning back in her chair. She is exhausted, thirsty and wants to sleep. “But it’s you, Staci, who needs to be saved. But I’m not sure if you can be saved. Not by _me_.”

Staci opens his mouth to say something, to tell Joey that all he wants is her to join him, to open her eyes and just _believe_ him, but he can’t find any words. Not when his partner looks like this and he can’t do anything to make her feel better because if he does, he’ll be punished. 

And while he is still alive, while he is breathing, he has a chance to look over Joey Hudson, make sure she lives long enough to witness the collapse and maybe then, she believes him.

Maybe then, the path to Eden will be opened to him.


End file.
